Chapter Text
Apollo Justice never sat at his kitchen table.
He thought about it often. He’d stand at the table, pick up an immaculately addressed envelope, think about throwing it out, then toss it right back onto the table with the others. It had been this way for two years, but he just wasn’t able to rid himself of the pile.
It was fine. He didn’t mind sitting on the couch to eat.
That evening, once again, he thought about clearing the table. Coffee mug in hand, he stared at the envelopes, debating the pros and cons of throwing them away.
He could only think of one con, but it vastly outweighed the pros.
He sighed, turning away from the table and moving into the lounge. He settled on the couch, his cat curling up at his side and promptly falling asleep.
Gently scratching the cat’s head, Apollo took small sips of his coffee, his eyes drifting around the room. He drank in the memories in the photographs around him, curling his hand tighter around the coffee mug.
He sighed, catching his cat’s attention. With a curious mewl, he placed a paw on Apollo’s thigh.
“I’m okay, Mikeko,” he assured him, rubbing his thumb over his cheek. He glanced back at the large photo that hung over the fireplace. “I can’t believe it’s been two years.”
Mikeko hopped into Apollo’s lap, deciding his human needed a cuddle. He curled himself into a ball, purring sweetly as Apollo resumed scratching behind his ear.
This was a typical evening for Apollo, on the couch with his cat, reminiscing. He tried to keep himself busy, but with a higher number of hunters than there had ever been, he found himself with more free time than he’d have liked.
So, all he could do was wait for a call asking for his help. His researcher was damn good at what she did, always on top of things, so he didn’t feel the need to actively seek out a job.
He reached for the TV remote, switching it on. Some garbage TV seemed to be in order.
He was seconds away from finally deciding to go to bed when his phone rang.
Without looking at the ID, he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear. “Justice,” he fought off a yawn as he spoke.
“Stop answering your phone like that,” barked the voice at the other end. Ema Skye had been his researcher for almost as long as he’d been a hunter. She had a keen attention to detail that had saved his skin on more occasions than he could count, and he was blessed to have her in his life. In the short time they’d worked together, they’d developed a solid friendship, complete with all the banter that came with it. “Seriously, you sound like a grumpy detective in an old buddy cop movie.”
He chuckled, stretching his free arm as that yawn finally escaped. “Cops and hunters aren’t that different,” he replied.
He could practically hear Ema rolling her eyes. “Hope I didn’t wake you,” she said, “because I’ve just caught wind of a vamp in your area.” He heard the clacking of her typing away at her laptop. “I’ve sent you the address. I don’t think it’s a nest, but I’d be careful if I were you.”
Pulling the phone away from his ear, Apollo switched it to speaker and pulled up his emails, the information Ema had sent just landing in his inbox as he pulled it up. “Got it, I’m on my way,” he answered, begrudgingly moving an unhappy Mikeko from his spot on his lap.
“Text me when you’re there and as soon as you’re out, do you understand me?” Ema’s voice took a scolding tone, and Apollo felt a teenager on his way to a high school party.
“Yes, mom,” he drawled, “I’ll check in, don’t worry.” With that, he hung up, tucking his phone into the pocket of his jeans.
Ema had her reasons for her protective behaviour. Apollo knew that. She’d had a rough past, with hunters that undervalued her input and ended up getting hurt, or worse. She knew the danger hunters put themselves in every day, and it made her anxiety spike, so she made sure to tell her hunters to keep themselves safe.
Looking over the information he’d received from Ema, Apollo briefly wondered if he could get this hunt sorted without his car. He’d never loved driving, and driving in Los Angeles was a nightmare he could do without.
The address he’d been sent was a fifteen minute walk, it would probably take him longer to drive. With that settled, Apollo grabbed the deep blue jacket hanging on a peg in the entryway, his keys jingling in its pocket, and exited his apartment.
There was a rucksack in the trunk of his car, a handy to-go kit of hunter junk that he’d put together for times like these. He quickly grabbed the bag from his car, double checking that it was locked, before heading out.
He followed the directions, reading over the rest of the information that Ema had sent him as he walked. It didn’t look like this vampire had that high of a body count, that they knew of, Ema already had a suspicion as to who it may be. The boy in the attached photograph didn’t look that old, late teens, if that. He looked like a good kid, but so did a lot of the supernatural nasties that Apollo had hunted.
He reached the address, an old house that Apollo just knew was full of dust. Perfect. Vampires, he could deal with. Allergies, he’d rather not. With a low grumble, he made a mental note to pick up some Zyrtec in the morning, sent Ema a text, and dragged himself around the back of the house.
He paused at the back door, digging around in his rucksack for a flashlight before trying the handle. It was locked, of course. He sighed.
Whatever. He didn’t exactly like doing it, but he could pick the lock, no problem.
Pulling open his rucksack again, Apollo grabbed the lock pick set he kept stashed away for times like these, crouching down in front of the door as he got to work. He kept his ear to the lock, waiting for that tell-tale click of the key pins setting, turning the doorknob and letting himself inside.
As predicted, the house was full of dust, the particles disturbed by the sudden breeze, floating in the beam of Apollo’s flashlight. He pulled the sleeve of his jacket over his hand, pressing it over his nose and mouth, and moved tentatively into the house, floorboards creaking under his weight.
He kept his flashlight trained to the ground as he explored the house, trying to keep his presence as subdued as possible. The one thing you don’t want on a hunt is to be caught off guard. As he moved into a room at the front of the house, he heard movement, muffled as it may be.
He pushed open the door, moving the light around the room until it settled on a mess of mousey hair. A young girl peered at him from behind a sheet-covered sofa, her mousy hair falling out of the bun it was tied in, brown eyes wide and teary. “Help me,” she whimpered.
Apollo dropped his rucksack and stepped into the room, approaching her slowly. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
The girl slowly rose from behind the sofa, her hands shaking in front of her face. “No,” she answered, “but I need to get out of here, before he comes back!” She reached out a hand to him, her face fully revealed as she did so.
And Apollo finally saw it.
Creatures with human facades had certain features, imperceivable by ordinary humans. But Apollo saw it all. The cracks in her cherry red lips, the impossible perfection of her skin, the hollowness in her eyes. All indicative of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
He didn’t have time to react. With a hand to his chest, the young girl flipped their positions. Apollo was pressed to the wall. The vampire grabbed hold of his wrists, pinning him in place with impossible strength.
She chuckled, pressing her body against his. “You bleeding-heart soft boys are all so easy,” she muttered, darkly.
Apollo fought fruitlessly against her grasp, cursing himself for not having a weapon ready. Rookie mistake. Dammit, Justice, you’re better than this! “How many of you are there?” he growled.
“You think you’re here to ask questions?” the little vampire smirked, pushing herself up onto her toes. “You have sweet eyes,” she commented, pressing her nose into the pulse point of his throat, “but I’ll bet your blood is even sweeter.”
As she pulled back, opening her mouth wide and revealing her long, needle-like fangs, Apollo tensed. If this vampire didn’t kill him, Ema would. He closed his eyes, bracing for a stabbing pain that never came. Instead, all he felt was thick, hot liquid splattering against his face.
Peeling open his eyes, Apollo didn’t see the vampire that was about to make a meal out of him. He saw a man, a hunter he assumed, clutching a machete.
The vampire had crumpled to the floor, her head across the room, separated from her shoulders.
“That was close,” said the hunter, accented voice clear and chipper, as though he’d not just decapitated a being. He dropped his machete onto the sofa, taking his phone out of his pocket and snapping a few pictures of the body.
Belatedly, Apollo realised he wasn’t being held against the wall any more, and snatched his hands away from where they’re been pinned. He eyed the vampire, briefly mourning the loss of his commission before turning his attention to the hunter. “Who the hell are you?” he asked, tone a little snippier than he’d intended.
The hunter laughed – a warm, rich sound – and weaved a hand through wisps of blond hair that had fallen loose from his otherwise neat ponytail. “Now, is that any way to speak to the guy who literally just saved your neck?” he asked, hands on his hips as he lent forward, coming eye-to-eye with Apollo in a way the other couldn’t help but find incredibly patronising.
“My neck would have been just fine,” he griped, folding his arms. “I had a handle on it.”
“Of course you did,” the hunter turned his back on Apollo, stepping over the vampire’s body to wipe the gore from his machete with the sheets that covered the furniture. “Well, next time, I’ll just let you be ensnared by Fräulein Vampir’s kiss.”
Apollo couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to punch someone in the mouth this badly. Without a word, he snatched his flashlight up from the floor, heading towards the door where he knew his rucksack was waiting for him.
“A ‘Thank you’ would be nice,” said the hunter, “but, you’re welcome either way.”
Clicking his tongue, Apollo swung his rucksack over his shoulder. “I’m not going to thank you for usurping my hunt,” he snapped.
He didn’t know when, but at some point the hunter had moved over towards him. When he turned, he had one arm resting against the wall by Apollo’s head, smiling down at him. Apollo supposed he thought he looked cool. “How about for saving you life?” he raised an eyebrow at him.
Apollo scoffed, ducking under his arm and moving away from him. “I told you, I had a handle on it.”
“And I implied that I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care what you believe,” Apollo raised his voice, ever so slightly. “I knew what I was doing, but you just had to jump in and nab my hunt, huh?”
With a sigh, the hunter shook his head. “Okay,” he muttered, pulling his phone out and fiddling with it for a while. “There, the pictures are gone, she’s all yours.” He showed Apollo the screen of his phone, proving the pictures had been deleted, before stuffing it back into his pocket.
Apollo narrowed his eyes at him, suspiciously. Hunters, by nature, tended to be quite territorial. Another hunter stepping in on your hunt was unforgivable, but Apollo couldn’t imagine why this hunter would allow him to claim responsibility for his kill. “That’s your kill, why would you do that?” he asked.
The hunter shrugged his shoulders. “It was your hunt,” he said. He stared at Apollo for a while, before producing a plum coloured handkerchief from his pocket. “You’re still covered in vamp blood.”
With a grimace, Apollo accepted the handkerchief from him, wiping his face clean. “Thank you.”
A silence passed between them, Apollo not knowing whether to take his own pictures or surrender the commission to this other hunter.
Before he could reach a decision, the hunter broke the silence. “Klavier Gavin,” he stated, holding his hand out towards Apollo.
“Huh?”
The hunter laughed. “That’s my name,” he clarified.
“Right,” Apollo shook his head, eyes closed, and forced his brain to function. “Apollo Justice,” he replied, shaking the hunter’s – Klavier’s – hand.
Klavier’s smile grew, his eyes scanning Apollo up and down before he took back his hand. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Apollo.” He glanced at the dead vampire out of the corner of his eye. “So, are you gonna get that, or...?”
Apollo stepped back, once again shaking his head. “Of course,” he muttered, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He took a few photos, about to put his phone back when it started to ring. No caller ID flashed up on the screen, but the only people who knew his number were other hunters and researchers, so he just answered it with a flick of his thumb and pressed it to his ear. “Justice,” he greeted.
The line was quiet for a few seconds, before Apollo faintly made out a weak sob. “Polly?” a small voice called through the static.
“Trucy?” He’d recognise that voice anywhere. “Is everything alright?”
The young girl on the phone sobbed and sucked in a shaky breath. “Can you come here, please?”